That Day
by imaginess
Summary: Ten years to that very day, Artie lost his ability to walk and Kurt lost his mom.  Semi-based off Tokio Hotel's song "That Day".  Rated T for language.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey! This is another short story, but there will be one more chapter after this! **

**THIS IS NOT A KURT/ARTIE ROMANCE FICTION, IT IS STRICTLY FRIENSHIP!**

Mercedes POV

What the hell is wrong with my boy? He has been completely avoiding me the entire day, and whenever Tina, Artie, and I go near him, he runs off. Artie is acting suspicious as well, not joining in while we are discussing Kurt. Mind, that could be just Artie, he isn't really into gossip and stuff, though Kurt is his friend and I'd think he would be more concerned.

The final bell rings and I make my way down the hall to the choir room. Tina and Artie run (and wheel) their way down the hall towards me. We meet up and enter the room. Kurt is the only one sitting there and he looks up at us. No, not us. Artie. He nods at him before looking back down at his nails. We hesitate, before taking our seats a few rows behind him. I immediately turn to Artie as people start arriving.

"What's goin' on between you and Kurt?" I whispered.

"Nothin' Mercedes, just...never mind." He looked over at Kurt's back.

"Spit it out, white boy." I demanded, not going to take anything but an explanation. He shook his head, just as Mr. Schue entered.

"Okay kids, Regionals are just around the corner, and after our awesome job at Sectionals, we've still got work to do." Everyone groaned, or clapped enthusiastically in Rachel's case.

The class went on-practicing, discussing, and bickering-and when Mr. Schuester announced it was time to go home, everyone filed out. I said goodbye to Tina and looked around to find that Kurt and Artie had left. I made my way out of the room and down the hall. I heard a bang from down the hall, but just shrugged it off, and opened the entrance doors. I made it to my car, checking the dumpsters for Kurt just in case, and then drove off.

Artie POV

Today is the absolute worst day of the year for me. I was glad that Kurt kept his distance; it made it easier for me to not think about what day it was. At the same time, I felt bad about trying to ignore Kurt. He was grieving just like I was. For, exactly ten years ago, I lost my ability to walk, and Kurt lost his mom. Some people would say I had it worse, but I say that he did.

I knew as soon as I saw Kurt sitting alone in front of us that I would have to confront him. I know Kurt feels guilty about what happened; he thinks it's his fault I can't walk. He just wanted to go shopping with his mom that day, and his mom had taken him. I tell people that it was some drunken mistake, but I just want to avoid conversations about Kurt being involved. In reality, Kurt and his mom were singing and gossiping, and they ran through a red light. No charges were pressed, and shortly afterwards Kurt and I became friends. The crash had brought us together, and although it would have been better if it had never happened, I am still glad that Kurt was there for me, and understands me. In the years to follow, Kurt was still my friend, but we never hung out. Kurt became a target for bullies as soon as we hit middle school, as did I. Kurt sometimes tried to stick up for me, but that just ended in both of us stuck in a sideways port-a-potty.

After the bell, I wheeled out of the choir room after Kurt, who jumped up right before me. He didn't know I was following him, as he made his way down the hall towards the locker rooms. I followed at a distance, and I heard banging from inside the room, I picked up my pace (**Of his hands? :P**) and wheeled into the room. I stopped, and regarded the scene in front of me. On one of the lockers, someone had spray painted the words 'faggot', 'cocksucker' and 'homo'. There was also some very artistic drawings, that were not school appropriate. Kurt was curled up on the floor under the locker, crying. I quietly wheeled my way over to him, and then stopped. Kurt eventually looked up at me, and I gave him a sad smile.

"Had a bad day?" I asked.

Kurt nodded, wiping his eyes off. As he did so I saw his red knuckles. I looked back up to the locker above him, and saw a dent in it.

"Do you need a ride, Kurt?" I asked, remembering him telling us last week that his baby was being repaired. Kurt looked up to me, and nodded again. He got up and we made our way to the parking lot in silence.

I saw my dad, and we headed over to our car. Kurt looked around nervously, trying to avoid my dad's gaze. It was no secret that my dad disliked Kurt. My dad had never fully accepted that what had happened with the crash being an accident and he didn't quite accept Kurt's lifestyle. Kurt got in the back seat, and my dad helped me out of my chair and into the one beside him. I could see that Kurt's eyes were wet again, and I patted his knee, and gave him another sad smile.

"What is it, Kurt?" I asked, knowing that it was a stupid question.

"Like you said, it was a bad day." He whispered.

"Why did you avoid me? You know I'm not mad." Kurt looked down at his hands in his lap once more as my dad started the car, and pulled out of the lot.

We were almost at his house when Kurt looked up at me. "How can you not be mad?" He asked, and I was surprised by how frustrated he was.

"Kurt, it wasn't-"

"It was, Artie. You know it was, yet you refuse to admit it!" My dad stopped in front of Kurt's place, and Kurt undid his seatbelt and opened the door. I grabbed his wrist before he could leave.

"Kurt, I have never once blamed what happened on you. You are the only one who is beating yourself up over this and you need to stop." Kurt shook his head, and pulled out of my grasp. "Kurt, stop, come back." I said as he made his way up the driveway. Kurt stopped and turned to me, his face unreadable.

"If it weren't for me, you'd be able to get out and stop me yourself." He then sprinted the rest of the way and into his house.

**Okay! That is the first chapter! Next chapter will be in Kurt's perspective! YAY. It gets kinda anghsty, so you are warned. **

**REVIEW! Compliment, critisize, request, question, or _something! _**

**-imaginess**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello again. I decided to finally update this! Yay! **

**I changed my writing style, because I suck at first person and present tense.**

Kurt ran into pushed open his door, and ran down the stairs into his bedroom. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, and leaned on the railing, breathing heavy. He hated today. Every single year, things would never go the same way on this day. Sometimes his dad would be there, comforting him, and others he would want to be alone. This day was neither of those. Kurt did not want to be alone, and his dad was not there to comfort him, because he had decided to go out with Carole. Usually Artie would take the hint and stay away, but he had to come along and remind him of what he had done.

Kurt tried to hate Artie as well, but he couldn't. He accepted that the only person he really hated was those idiots on the hockey team. He hadn't realized that being in glee and being gay meant you got no breaks, at all, from the bullying. Today was the one day where he had not been able to strut by their teasing, and he was sure that he showed how upset he was, but they still continued.

Kurt sunk down onto the floor, and began to cry. He just wished the day would end, that Artie would never bring it up again. He thought about trying to go to sleep, but there was something he needed to do first. He slowly pulled himself up, and wiped his eyes on his sleeve. He checked his reflection in the mirror before ascending the stairs. When he got to the top his face was a determined mask, and his eyes were dry. He would go to the one person who he really felt understood him, even more than his dad did. Kurt went outside and to his car, getting in, and starting the engine.

A few minutes later, he pulled up beside the Lima graveyard. He got out, and looked around, checking that he was alone. He sprinted towards the northern part of the cemetery, and threw himself to his knees beside one of the graves. He ran his hands over the letters engraved in the stone: _Grace Elizabeth Hummel. _

"Hey mom." He said, feeling the tears well up in his eyes again. "I...I missed you a lot today. You remember Artie? You never really got to know him. He's really nice. Not my type though..." Kurt chuckled to himself quietly, which quickly turned into a sob. "I wish it had never happened, mom. I wish you were still with us."

He took a moment to get himself back together, wrapping his arms around his knees. "I...I wish you were here to help dad...I wish you were here to help me...I wish I had never wanted to go shopping that day...you'd be here...Artie would be able to walk..." He was overcome with sobs once again, and when he ran out of tears he still didn't want to leave.

"Look Mom...I know that dad has this new thing with Carole, but I'm sure he's still thinking about you. I always will be thinking about you." Kurt curled up on his side beside the grave stone, closing his eyes, and trying to forget about the day.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Artie was currently mad at his father. He was being a total jerk. After Kurt had left, his dad had gone on a rampage about Kurt. His dad _hated _Kurt. Artie was the only one who really had a reason to be angry, it was his handy-cap, yet he had never been mad at his friend.

When Artie received a text from Mercedes, he knew it was about Kurt.

**Do u now where kurt is?**

Artie quickly replied, and he found out that Burt had returned to an empty house, and he didn't know where his son was. Artie left his bedroom, and hurried outside before his dad noticed him. He phoned the Hummel house, and Burt answered right away.

"Hello?"

"Hi sir, it's me, Artie."

"Hey Artie, what do you need, son?" Burt sounded rather impatient.

"I want to help you find Kurt."

"Do you know where he is?" Kurt's dad asked.

"Well, I was guessing he would have gone to his mom..." Artie said hesitantly.

"What do you mean?"

"You know, after today I thought he might have gone to visit her grave, or something."

"Why? What happened today?" Burt asked, sounding worried.

"Well, Kurt was having a bad day, and I had to bring up what happened, because he still felt guilty about it." There was a long pause on the line.

"Oh God. I forgot."

"You forgot what day it was today?" Artie asked, surprised.

"Kurt must hate me..." Burt's voice was filled with dread.

"He won't hate you, but we should go find him."

The worried father picked up Artie at his house and they drove to the graveyard together. Burt got out and helped Artie get back in his chair. Burt pushed him along the bumpy grass, before coming to a halt. Artie looked around before he saw what had stopped the man. There was a small figure laying curled up beside one of the graves a few rows from him.

"Kurt!" Burt hollered, and ran to his son's side, leaving Artie behind. Artie hung back, watching as Burt knelt before Kurt, and shook him. Kurt awoke, and Burt held him as he shook with more sobs. Artie slowly wheeled nearer, and placed a hand on the mechanic's shoulder. Burt looked up, and Artie caught a glimpse of Kurt. His face was red, flushed from the cold and from crying. Artie looked down and saw that Kurt was shaking with more than just sobs, for he was wearing nothing more than his thin designer jacket.

"Here, take this." Artie said, as he slid out of his parka. He was wearing a thick sweater under it, so he didn't need it. Burt thanked him with a nod, and wrapped the jacket around Kurt's shoulders.

"Kurt, let's get you out of here." Burt slowly stood, still clutching Kurt to his chest, and began to travel back to his truck. Once they got there Kurt slid in, and Burt helped Artie into the seat beside him, and put his chair in the back. When Burt got in the driver4's seat, he found that the truck was running with the heat on full blast.

"Kurt?" Artie asked, as Burt pulled out and started off towards Artie's home, "You're not still mad, are you?" Kurt turned to the other boy, and pulled him into a hug.

"No. I'm not. Thank you so much, Artie."

"For what?" He asked, pulling away slightly.

"Everything." Kurt said.

Burt cleared his throat, and both boy looked up to see that they had arrived at Artie's house. "Artie, I think your dad is waiting." Artie looked over to see his dad standing just outside their door, glaring daggers at them.

"Oh shit." Artie cursed under his breath. Burt got out, and got Arties chair out, and then opened the door the truck to help him out. Mr. Abrahms strode towards Burt, and pushed him out of the way. "Don't" He hissed, "touch my son."

"Dad." Artie warned. There had always sort of been an understanding between the two, that Artie forbid his dad to say anything in front of the Hummel's.

"Where were you? I look in your room to find that you have completely disappeared, and then I come outside to find you…" His dad trailed off, shooting a pointedly disgusted look at Kurt.

"Mr. Abrahms, Artie volunteered to come help me find Kurt. I-" The enraged man turned with renewed fury on Burt.

"Look, Mr. Hummel. I know you are a perfectly reasonable man, so you will understand. It is _his-" _He pointed at Kurt, who sat in the cab looking alarmed, "fault that my son cannot walk-"

The man stopped, as he found that he was a mere inch from Burt Hummel's face. "The accident was nobody's fault. And, in case you don't remember, you are not the only one who suffered from the outcome. Your son is still here. Be thankful." Burt helped Artie down and into his chair, before saying a brief thanks to him, then getting in his truck.

"Bye, Artie." Kurt said, avoiding his friend's father's gaze.

"Good-bye Kurt."

**There. Done! What a relief. Please review. I know I went overboard on the whole "Artie's dad hates Kurt" Thing, but please deal with it.**

**IF YOU LIKE IT THEN YOU SHOULD-A PUT A REVIEW ON IT WOH WOH WOH WOH WOH WOH WOH WOH WOH WOH WOH WOH (is that how you spell woh?"**


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